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Pilgrim  Songs 

 BY  

F.  W.  HERZBERGER, 

Ev.  LuTH.  Pastor. 


CONTENTS. 


1.  Dedication. 

2.  Wooing  Of  The  Pilgrim. 

3.  I  Am  Thy  Pilgrim. 

4.  Pilgrim's  Staff. 

5.  Pilgrim's  Light. 

6.  Pilgrim's  Dress. 

7.  Pilgrim's  Crowns. 

8.  Weary  Not. 

9.  Return  To  Me  ! 

10.  Could  I  Forget. 

11.  Fear  Not. 

12.  Ecce  Homo. 

13.  Ever  Nearer. 

14.  Prayer  Before  Reading  The  Scriptures. 

15.  Why  Would  You  Weep. 

16.  Procrastination. 

17.  Christmas  Hymn. 

18.  When  Sball  It  Be. 

19.  Come  Unto  Me. 

20.  They  Are  Not  Dead.  , 

21.  Love's  Prayer. 

22.  Trust  In  God. 

23.  Sylvester  Eve. 

24.  Contentment. 

25.  Evening  Song. 

26.  The  Morning  Star. 

27.  Weariness. 

28.  Easter  Song. 

29.  To  M. 

30.  Mystery  Revealed. 

31.  Jerusalem,  My  Happy  Home. 

32.  Christ  On  The  Sea. 

83.  Ascension. 

84.  Resurrection. 

35.  Homeward  Bound. 


PREFACE. 


Neither  the  love  of  lucre  nor  the  iove  of  vain 
glory  have  induced  the  author  to  pubhsh  tins  little 
volume.  He  knows  only  too  well  that  neither  will 
accrue  to  him  by  its  publication.  His  reason  for 
presenting  this  little  book  to  the  public  is  his  earnest 
desire  of  giving  in  it  a  small  token  of  deep  and  last- 
ing gratitude  to  those  dear  friends  whose  names  the 
author  has  dared  to  mention  on  the  preceding  page. 

Some,  no  doubt,  will  call  the  publication  of  the 
book  premature,  when  they  see  its  meager  contents. 
To  these  the  author  would  say,  that  through  great 
bodily  affliction  he  has  come  to  the  belief  that  his 
days  are  nearly  numbered,  and  he  therefore  only  the 
more  earnestly  desired  to  know  at  least  this  farthing 
of  his  great  debt  of  gratitude  paid,  before  the  last 
hour  came. 

If  in  God's  great  mercy  this  little  volume  becomes 
the  means  of  recalling  one  single  sheep  that  has 
strayed  from  the  fold,  if  it  serves  to  dry  a  single 
tear,  or  calm  the  troubled  heart  of  some  grief-iaden 
pilgrim,  the  author  will  have  the  inexpressible  joy  of 
knowing  that  his  little  book  has  not  been  pubhshed 
in  vain. 

F.  W.  H. 

Chicago,  111.,  Sept.  17,  1888. 


* 


DEDICATION. 


A  pilgrim,  who  in  foreign  land 
With  weary  heart  must  roam, 

Will  often  take  his  harp  to  hand, 
And  fondly  sing  of  home. 

His  home  is  e'er  his  soul's  delight. 

Wherever  he  may  stroll ; 
His  burning  songs  by  day,  by  night 

Its  praise  with  joy  extoll. 

I  am  Thy  pilgrim,  O  my  God, 
This  world  is  nought  to  me ; 

But  every  day  the  path  is  trod 
That  leads  me  home  to  Thee. 

O,  can  I  help  to  sing  Thy  praise 

While  in  this  exile-land, 
And  honor  with  these  simple  lays 

The  mercies  of  Thy  hand? 

Accept  Thou  then  my  stammering 
And  let  my  lisping  please. 

At  home  my  harp  Thy  praise  shall  sing 
In  fairer  songs  than  these  1 


The  Wooing  of  the  Pilgrim. 


O  Jesus,  dearest  Jesus, 

How  shall  my  joyous  soul, 
Praise  it  however  sweetly, 

Thy  wond'rous  love  extoll, 
Thy  love  that  placed  the  sinner 

As  Thy  mo-,t  cherished  bride 
In  royal  robes  and  honor. 

At  Thy  exalted  side. 

O,  what  was  there  within  me 

To  please  Thine  holy  eye? 
What  shining  garment  clothed  me 

To  draw  Thee  loving  nigh? 
What  beauty,  grace  or  riches 

Could  I  account  my  own. 
That  Thou  couldst  find  such  pleasure 

To  make  my  heart  Thy  throne  ? 

All  naked  I  was  dying 

In  sin  and  greatest  shame, 
With  filthy  rags  for  raiment, 

Unrighteousness  for  name  ; 
Cast  out  as  unclean  offal, 

A  wretched  soul  I  lay 
In  blood,  and  wounds,  and  sorrow, 

Foul  Hell's  desired  prey. 

10 


WOOING  OF  THE  PILGRIM. 

But  though  the  earth  and  heavens 

Loathed  my  vile  company, 
Yet  Thou,  the  Lord  of  Glory, 

Couldst  not  contented  be 
To  leave  me  in  my  anguish. 

To  know  in  death  my  part ; 
But  long'dst  to  take  the  sinner 

To  Thy  love-burning  heart. 

From  Thy  great  throne  of  glory 

And  uncreated  light 
Thou  cam'st  into  my  bondage 

And  grieving  sorrow's  night. 
Thou  camest  poor  and  lowly 

To  make  me  rich  and  great. 
And  took'st  in  loving  kindness 

On  Thee  my  dreadful  fate. 

To  win  me  robes  of  honor 

Thou  worest  robes  of  shame, 
That  I  might  live  in  glory 

Thou  suffer'dst  great  defame. 
And  that  the  crown  immortal, 

Which  all  the  blest  adorns. 
My  guilty  head  might  circle. 

Thou  worest  crown  of  thorns. 

Thou  tookest  on  Thy  shoulders 
The  burden  of  my  guilt, 

And  on  Thy  stainless  raiment 
Thy  precious  blood  was  spilt. 
11 


PILGRIM  SONGS. 


The  wine-press  of  God's  anger  , 
Alone  by  Thee  was  trod. 

That  Thou  might'st  save  forever 
Me  from  his  angry  rod. 

But  though  Thy  tears  and  prayers, 

Thy  suffering,  death  and  grave 
Redeemed  him,  who  his  Hfetime 

Was  Satan's  trembling  slave, 
And  though  Thou  stretchtest  daily 

Thy  saving  arms  to  me. 
Yet,  I  in  nameless  folly 

Thy  loving  heart  could  flee. 

The  ways  of  sin  and  sorrow 

Were  dearer  to  my  feet, 
Than  all  Thy  ways  of  mercy 

And  grace  and  peace  so  sweet. 
Aye,  r.ither  would  I  listen 

Unto  the  Tempter's  voice. 
Than  take  Thy  invitation 

And  in  Thy  love  rejoice. 

O,  truly  I  had  doubly 

Deserved  my  dreadful  fate; 
Thou  werest  just  in  closing 

On  me  Thy  mercy's  gate ; 
Thou  werest  just  in  leaving 

Me  to  my  dreadful  lot, 
In  passing  the  just  judgment : 

"Go  hence!  I  know  thee  not." 

12 


WOOING  OF  THE  PILGRIM. 


But  though  my  heart  rejected 

The  offerings  of  Thy  peace, 
Yet  thou  wouldst  not  reject  me, 

Yet  Thou  wouldst  never  cease 
To  follow  ever  loving 

And  wooing  at  my  side, 
Until  at  last  Thou  won'st  me 

And  madest  me  Thy  bride. 

O,  Love  beyond  extoling, 

Beyond  all  depth  and  height, 
O  Love !  the  song  of  angels. 

Saved  sinners'  great  delight. 
If  in  the  highest  heavens 

My  raptured  harp  were  strung, 
Singing  through  endless  ages — 

Thy  praise  were  left  unsung ! 


13 


I  Am  Thy  Pilgrim. 


I  am  Thy  pilgrim,  O  my  fathers'  God, 

And  humbly  pray,  while  wand'ring  on  the  way, 
That  Thou  wouldst  lead  me  with  Thy  loving  rod 

And  kindly  lend  me  strength,  that  every  day 
My  path  to  Thee  in  truest  faith  be  trod; 

And  though  my  heart  in  weakness  often  stray, 
Yet  do  Thou  grant  me  on  my  pilgrimage 

The  needed  help  to  reach  my  heritage. 

O,  give  me  strength  to  flee  the  Tempter's  voice 

And  never  his  desiring  to  fulfill ; 
Make  Thou  the  narrow  path  my  daily  choice, 

And  all  my  heart  with  fervent  love  instill 
For  Thee,  that  I  may  evermore  rejoice 

To  daily  do  Thy  good  and  holy  will. 
O,  let  me  keep  my  portion  undefiled 

And  ever  prove  myself  Thy  Spirit's  child. 

And  when  at  last  I  hear  the  curfew  toll 

And  know  my  weary  pilgrim-days  are  by, 
When  my  dim  eyes  see  Jordan's  waters  roll 

And  for  Thy  face  in  anxious  longing  sigh — 
O,  then,  my  God,  uphold  my  fearing  soul 

And  to  Thy  bosom  draw  me  loving  nigh; 
Then  open  unto  me  fair  Eden's  door 

And  let  me  live  with  Thee  forevermore. 


Pilgrim's  Staff. 


O  Thou,  who  on  the  crosses-tree 
Didst  die  a  shameful  death  for  me, 

O  dearest  Savior  Thou — 

I  know  Thy  cross  is  fooHshness 

To  all  who  in  their  righteousness 
And  haughty  merit  trow. 

But  Lord,  to  me,  a  sinner  great, 
Who  in  his  first  sin's  dreadful  state 

Could  neither  do  nor  will 

A  single  work  his  God  to  please, 

Or  his  just  anger  to  appease; 
To  me,  a  sinner  still. 

Thy  holy,  blood-stained  cross  shall  be 
The  blessed  wood  that  makes  me  free 

From  that  dread  serpent's  bite; 
Its  ble.-sed  fruit  shall  be  the  meat 

Of  which  my  dying  soul  shail  eat 
And  live  in  great  delight. 

And  while  through  ever  waning  years, 
My  weary  feet,  in  many  fears. 

Life's  rugged  road  must  wend, 

'i  hy  cross  shall  be  my  pilgrim-staff 

On  which  my  soul  its  hope  shall  graff 
To  reach  its  journeys  end. 


PILGRIM  SONGS. 


O,  with  this  blessed  staff  in  hand 
I'll  wander  to  the  promised  land 

And  fear  no  depth  nor  height; 
For  though  the  way  oft  thorny  be, 

This  blessed  staff  shall  comfort  me 
And  make  my  jom^ney  Hght. 

When  I  grow  thirsty  on  the  road 
And  falter  'neath  my  heavy  load, 

This  staff  shall  be  the  rod 
With  which  from  her  Salvation's  Rock 

My  soul  refreshing  springs  shall  knock 
And  see  her  glorious  God. 

Let  Mara's  waters  bitter  be, 

My  eyes  no  help  nor  comfort  see 

And  weep  in  great  distress, 

Thy  cross  shall  be  the  blessed  wood 

That  with  Thy  blood's  most  precious  flood 
Sweetens  all  bitterness. 

And  when,  at  last,  with  weary  feet 
The  stormy  waves  of  death  I  meet 

And  hear  the  enemy. 

Then  shall  thy  cross  as  Moses'  rod 

The  surging  floods  part  wide  abroad 
And  bring  me  safe  to  Thee. 


16 


The  Pilgrim's  Light. 


Surrounded  by  sin's  dismal  night, 

A  pilgrim  I  must  roam. 
O  what  shall  be  my  guiding  light 
To  lead  my  erring  feet  aright 

The  path  to  my  blest  home? 

There  is  no  other  light  than  Thine, 

O  Jesus,  dearest  Lord! 
That  sacred  lamp,  Thy  truth  divine. 
Whose  gloom-dispelling  beams  still  shine 

Forth  from  Thy  holy  Word. 

Thy  Word  alone  has  oped  my  eyes 

To  see  the  areadful  state 
In  which  all  human  nature  lies — 
'Tis  endless  night  that  never  cies. 

With  endless  death  its  fate. 

Thy  Word  alone  has  sped  its  ray 

Into  my  blind-born  heart. 
Has  driven  sin's  dark  night  away 
And  brought  me  in  the  glorious  day 

Of  which  the  sun  Thou  art. 

17 


jplLGRIM  SONGS. 


Thy  Word  alone  has  kindled  in 

My  heart  faith's  holy  llame, 
In  it  my  dying  soul  does  win 
Against  the  bleeding  wounds  of  sin 

Sure  healing  from  Thy  name. 

Thy  Word  alone  grants  me  faith's  fruit, 

Sweet  charity's  fair  flower, 
E'er  in  Thy  loving  heart  to  root, 
Its  gladdening  blossoms  thence  to  shoot 

'Round  my  heart's  stony  tower. 

Thy  Word  alone  lights  up  in  me 

Hope's  radiant,  shining  star, 
Whose  blessed  rays  teach  me  to  see 
Above  this  tear-stained  Calvary 
The  pearly  gates  ajar. 

While  I  must  wander  in  the  night, 

Thy  Word,  O  Lord,  shall  be 
My  soul's  inspiring,  guiding  light. 
Making  my  path  most  fair  and  bright 
That  leads  me  home  to  Thee. 


IS 


The  Pilgrim's  Dress. 


As  long  as  I  wander  o'er  life's  stormy  lea 
Without  and  within  me  no  beauty  I  see; 
My  sad,  flowing  tears  ever  daily  confess : 
In  me  they  see  nothing  but  sin's  shame/ul  dress. 

In  Thee,  O  my  Savior,  in  thy  purple  blood, 
In  which  I  was  clad  in  the  baptismal  flood, 
My  soul  has  a  garment  more  glorious  far 
Than  the  glittering  dress  of  day's  brightest  star. 

Though  without  no  beauty  this  fair  dress  unfolds, 
Still  the  eye  of  my  God  its  splendor  beholds; 
My  sins,  without  number,  their  deep,  crimson  glow, 
In  this  purple  dress  glisten  whiter  than  snow. 

This  dress  shall  enrobe  me  while  journeying  here, 
And  in  it  no  dangcT  nor  tempest  I'll  fear, 
From  the  heat  of  the  desert,  the  rocks  of  the  way 
This  dress  shall  protect  me,  by  night  and  by  day. 

This  dress  shall  not  molder  nor  ever  wax  old, 
But  as,  of  the  wandering  Jews  we  are  told. 
How  their  garments  outlasted  the  season  of  time, 
No  seasons  shall  injure  this  fair  dress  of  mine. 

This  dress  will  I  take  as  my  last  winding  sheet, 
In  its  beauty  my  Savior  in  heaven  to  meet, 
And  there  shall  I,  shining  in  this  precious  stole, 
My  Savior's  great  glory  forever  extol. 

19 


The  Pilgrim's  Crowns. 


For  every  pilgrim  of  our  God 
Two  crowns  are  made  to  wear : 

The  one  while  here  his  way  is  trod, 
And  one  in  Heaven  fair. 

The  first  is  wrought  of  sorrow's  thorns, 

Its  jewels  are  the  tears 
Wept  by  a  heart  that  sadly  mourns 

In  faith's  repenting  fears. 

And  'round  it  runs  this  tristful  rhyme : 
Through  tribulations  great 

Alone  God's  child  the  road  may  climb 
That  leads  to  Heaven's  gate. 

Ah,  'tis  a  crown  the  world  does  scorn 
And  hold  in  greatest  shame, 

And  he,  by  whom  this  crown  is  worn. 
Must  suffer  great  defame. 

But  he  who  wears  the  precious  seal 

Of  Christ  upon  his  brow, 
Shrinks  not  his  Savior's  thorns  to  feel 

Nor  'neath  his  cross  to  bow. 

He  cannot,  when  his  Master  wore 
A  bleeding  crown  on  earth. 

The  glittering  crown  of  Baal  adore 
And  quaff  his  cup  of  mirth. 

20 


THE  pilgrim's  CROWNS. 

No;  he  will  take  the  thorny  wreath 

And  kiss  the  loving  hands, 
That  with  it  all  the  grace  bequeath 

That  broke  death's  iron  bands. 

To  him  It  is  a  gracious  sign 

Of  his  Redeemer's  love, 
And  in  its  thorns  his  eyes  divine 

The  beauteous  crown  above. 

Ah,  'tis  a  crown  his  singing  tongue 
Shall  greet  in  sweetest  hymn. 

And  see  his  prayers  as  rubies  strung 
Around  its  sheeny  rim. 

A  crown,  wherein  his  tearful  sighs 

Are  laid  as  precious  gold — 
A  crown !  its  glory  never  dies, 

Its  joys  are  never  told. 

On  it  his  raptured  eyes  shall  read 
The  sentence  fair  and  clear : 

"All  they  that  weeping  sowed  their  seed 
Shall  reap  in  glory  here. " 


21 


Weary  Not. 


Weary  not,  weary  not, 

Little  Pilgrim-band, 
Though  the  desert  sun  be  hot 
And  thy  way  with  care  be  fraught 

To  the  promised  land. 

Not  alone,  not  alone 

Do  you  wander  here, 
He,  who  from  the  fiery  throne 
Of  the  cloud  on  Juda  shone. 

Evermore  is  near. 

He  will  lead.  He  will  lead 

Now  as  then  the  way, 
With  his  manna  He  will  feed 
Hungry  hearts  and  every  need, 

Every  want  alay. 

In  the  dearth,  in  the  dearth 
Living  wells  shall  spring 
From  his  hand  in  gleeful  mirth, 
Lift  the  dying  from  the  earth 
To  Him,  their  living  King. 

Onward  still,  onward  still. 

Then,  thou  Uttle  band. 
For  it  is  the  Father's  will 
His  great  promise  to  fulfill : 

To  bring  you  to  His  land. 

32 


Return  To  Me. 


(Jeremiah  8,  12.) 

Return  to  me,  my  Children,  O  return ! 
Why  will  you  follow  in  destruction's  path 
And  chose  for  life  the  everlasting  wrath 
That  in  the  deepest  deep  of  Hell  doth  burn? 
What  have  I  done  that  you  so  coldly  spurn 
My  love  that  bare  you  with  such  bitter  tears, 
That  suffered  your  despise  these  many  years, 
Yet  doth  to-day  with  eager  longing  turn 
To  you  and  weeping  pray :  Return  !  Return  1 

Return  to  me — O  do  not  trust  the  sprites 
That  lure  you  wily  on  to  dreary  wastes. 
Where  tears  for  joy  and  death  for  life  he  tastes, 
Who  follows,  fondly  hoping  sweet  delights. 
O,  how  your  danger  all  my  soul  affrights, 
And  how  I  tremble,  lest  you  too  be  lost, 
My  children,  O  my  children,  who  have  cost 
Me  more  than  mothers  anxious  days  and  nights 
Filled  with  sad  tears  and  burning  prayer's  flights. 

23 


PILGRIM  SONGS. 


"nrn  to  me,  O  why,  why  will  you  die 
III  your  trangressions  and  their  damning  guilt. 
When  I  redeemed  you  with  the  blood  I  spilt 
Upon  the  cross,  with  many  a  bitter  sigh. 
O,  harden  not  your  hearts  against  my  cry 
That  c^lls  you  back  into  my  longing  arms 
To  keep  you  safe  from  sin's  death-dealing  harms, 
And  make  you  strong  all  danger  to  defy 
That  'round  the  narrow  path  to  heaven  lie. 

Return  to  me !  O,  think  me  not  a  stern, 

A  heartless  ju  ge  that  doth  not  mercy  know. 

Did  I  not  to  the  dying  thief  it  show 

Ano  from  his  soul  the  fearful  judgment  turn? 

Thus  doih  my  love  incessant  for  you  burn, 

And  sti  1  to-day  my  arms  are  opened  wide 

To  take  you, lost  and  straying,  to  my  side; 

And  though  my  love  for  you  you  oft  did  spurn, 

I  will  forgive,  forget  it  all : — Return. 


24 


Could  I  Forget. 


Could  I  forget  Thee,  Holy  Love, 
Forget  to  seek  my  Home  above, 
Forget  to  be  Thy  faithful  child, 
To  live  beneath  Thy  yoke  so  mild? 

Could  I  forget  Thy  loving  voice 
That  makes  Thy  children's  heart  rej  oice. 
And  to  the  Tempter  lend  my  heart 
And  from  Thy  righteous  path  depart? 

Could  I  forget  Thy  thorn-crowned  head, 
Thy  heart  that  for  the  sinner  bled, 
Thy  hands  that  on  the  crosses-tree 
Stretched  out  in  dying  love  for  me? 

Could  I  forget  the  tender  care 
That  day  and  night  sought  everywhere 
The  sheep,  that  wandered  in  distress 
Through  this  world's  sinful  wilderness? 

Could  I  forget  the  happy  days. 
When  Thy  sweet  eyes  their  loving  rays 
Shed  o'er  me,  and  in  greatest  bHss 
My  soul  received  Thy  bridal-kiss? 

Forgive,  O  Lord,  my  shameful  fall ; 
I  hear  Thy  loving  shepherd-call 
O,  light  on  me  Thy  loving  face 
And  take  me  back  into  Thy  grace. 

25 


"Fear  Not,  Only  Believe". 

(Mark  5,  39.) 


Fear  not  your  sins'  great  number, 

Nor  let  their  heavy  load 
Your  grieving  heart  encumber, 

But  in  Christ's  hands  furrowed 
Behold  your  sure  salvation, 

He  will  your  soul  relieve 
From  sin's  great  condemnation : 

Fear  not,  only  believe. 

Fear  not  the  grave's  dark  portal ; 

Fear  not  Death's  icy  hand ; 
For  Christ  reigns  God  immortal 

In  Death's  sepulchral  land. 
Who  are  His  body's  members 

In  death  He  will  not  leave, 
But  wake  the  lifeless  embers : 

Fear  not,  only  believe. 

Fear  not  hell's  wily  power, 

The  fiery  arrow's  flight, 
Let  Christ  be  your  strong  tower. 

Stand  boldly  in  the  fight. 
You  will  not  be  forsaken. 

When  but  to  Christ  you  cleave. 
He  hell  hath  captive  taken  : 

Fear  not,  only  beHeve. 

36 


FEAR  NOT,  ONLY  BELIEVE. 


Fear  not  your  heart  displaying 

The  future  sin-fraught  wave, 
It  is  a  faithful  saying: 

Christ  came  sinners  to  save. 
His  is  a  faithful  caUing, 

He  will  your  soul  retrieve 
From  all  peril  befalling : 

Fear  not,  only  believe. 


27 


EccE  Homo. 


Know'st  thou  the  man 

Hanging  on  yonder  cross? 
Know'st  thou  the  head 

Those  cruel  thorns  emboss? 
Know'st  thou  that  Lamb 

Slain  by  Jehovah's  rod? 

O  Soul— it  is  thy  God! 

Know'st  thou  the  cause 

That  hanged  thy  Maker  there? 
Know'st  thou  the  nails 

That  pierce  those  hands  so  fair? 
Know'st  thou  the  scourge 

That  bruised  the  holy  skin? 

O  soul — it  was  thy  sin ! 

Know'st  thou  the  fruit 

Of  all  this  bitter  pain  ? 
Know'st  thou  the  prize 

Thy  dying  Lord  would  gain? 
Knowst  thou  the  crown 

He  wins  in  this  sad  strife  ? 

O  Soul — it  is  thy  life  1 

Shall  then,  O  Soul, 

Thy  Saviour  bleed  in  vain? 
Wilt  thou  then  hold 

His  dying  in  disdain? 
O  no,  my  Soul, 

His  mighty  love  adore — 

Repent,  believe  and  sin  no  more. 


Ever  Nearer. 


Ever  nearer,  ever  nearer 

Draw  me,  dearest  Lord,  to  Thee. 
Ever  dearer,  ever  dearer, 

Make  Thy  holy  name  for  me. 
O,  I  long  to  be  Thine  wholly, 

Thine  alone,  as  Thou  art  mine, 
And  to  praise  and  love  Thee  solely 

And  my  all  to  Thee  resign. 

But  alas,  while  time  is  fleeing 

To  eternity's  far  shore. 
And  my  eyes  are  daily  seeing 

Opened  wide  the  grave's  dark  door, 
I  must  make  the  sad  confession : 

My  love  is  not  undefiled, 
Still  my  way  is  in  transgression. 

Still  I  am  not  all  Thy  child. 

For  the  world  and  her  vain  pleasures 

Cause  me  often  to  forget 
Thee,  O  Lord,  and  at  Thy  measures 

This  my  heart  will  often  fret ; 
Often  listen  to  the  Tempter 

Rather  do  his  sinful  will, 
Than  in  love,  O  my  Redemptor, 

Thy  commandments  to  fulfill. 


PILGRIM  SONGS. 


O  forgive,  forgive  my  failing, 

Calm,  OLord,  my  troubled  heart, 
To  its  weakness,  to  its  ailing, 

Cheerful  love  and  trust  impart : 
For  I  long  to  be  Thine  wholly. 

Thine  alone,  as  Thou  art  mine. 
And  to  praise  and  love  Thee  solely 

And  my  all  to  Thee  resign. 


Prayer  Before  Reading  The  Scriptures. 


0  Holy  Spirit,  Truth  Divine, 

1  now  draw  near  Thy  sacred  shrine 
To  seek  for  pearls  of  heavenly  lore, 
That  bless  the  soul  forevermore. 

But  ah,  with  mine  own  sin-bound  eyes 
I  nevermore  can  find  the  prize; 
I  pray  Thee,  lift  the  dark'ning  veil 
That  sight  and  hearing  may  not  fail. 

O  shed  on  me  Thy  holy  light, 
That  I  may  read  Thy  word  aright ; 
In  mercy  from  my  soul  keep  out 
All  unbelief,  all  sinful  doubt. 

Awake  in  me  faith's  morning-star 
And  break  down  every  hindering  bar. 
And  through  Thy  guidance  let  me  see 
My  Jesus  with  his  love  for  me. 

Against  Hell's  ever  raging  hord 
Let  Thy  word  be  my  trusty  sword, 
And  through  it  teach  my  soul  to  win 
The  fight  with  Satan,  World  and  Sin, 

In  tribulation's  tearful  night 
Let  Thy  word  be  my  shining  light, 
And  when  death's  parting  hour  has  come 
Thro'  Thy  word  lead  me  safely  home. 

31 


Why  Would  You  Weep? 


Why  would  you  weep,  my  loved  ones, 

For  weary  hearts  at  rest? 
Death's  angel  has  not  harmed  them. 

But,  at  his  Lord's  behest, 
With  loving  voice  he  gathered 

Them  in  his  silent  fold. 
Where  they  secure  may  slumber, 

Until  time's  sands  are  told. 

O,  would  you  weep  in  sorrow. 

If,  after  they  had  wrought 
All  day  their  weary  labor, 

Refreshing  sleep  they  sought? 
Or  would  your  tears  be  flowing, 

If,  after  they  had  made 
Their  sorrow-laden  journey. 

They  sought  the  cooling  shade? 

Or  do  you  cry  in  anguish, 

If  from  the  stormy  sea 
The  mariners  to  harbor 

With  their  frail  vessels  flee? 
Or  do  you  hear  sad  mourning. 

If  from  the  bloody  war 
The  conqueror  is  returning 

On  his  triumphal-car? 


WHY  WOULD  YOU  WEEP? 


Why  then  beweep  those  dear  ones? 

Their  weary  work  is  o'er ; 
Past  is  their  stormy  voyage, 

Their  bark  is  on  the  shore, 
Their  feet  no  longer  wander 

The  thorny  path  of  Ufe ; 
And  they  the  foe  have  conquered 

In  faith's  triumphant  strife. 


SI 


Procrastination. 


"To-morrow,"  he  said, 
"When  I  cease  to  run 

For  the  prize  I  seek 
And  the  goal  is  won, 

When  my  soul  has  quaffed 
The  depths  of  mirth 

And  all  her  desires 
Have  died  in  dearth, 

When  life's  bright  stars 
No  longing  awake — 

To-morrow  my  peace 
With  my  God  I'll  make.  " 

To-morrow  came — 
The  bright  sun  shone 

On  earth  and  her  children 
And  their  fates  unknown. 

It  shone  on  their  pleasures 
And  Toil's  deaf 'ning  din. 

It  shone  on  their  sorrow, 
It  shone  on  their  sin; 

It  shone  on  a  grave 
Just  newly  made, 

Where  he  so  sudden 
By  others  was  laid. 

To-morrow  had  come 
With  its  terrible  fate : 

For  his  peace  with  God 
He  was  too  late. 

34 


Christmas  Hymn. 


Hark!  what  mean  those  angel  voices? 

Singing  sweetly  in  the  night, 
At  their  song  all  Heaven  rejoices 

And  is  seized  with  strange  delight. 

Hark  !  they  sing  of  what  the  olden 
Seer's  harps  have  longing  sang, 

And  their  message  is  the  golden 
Promise  which  through  ages  rang, 

Of  Immanuel's  salvation, 

Virgin's  Son  and  mighty  God, 

To  redeem  man's  fallen  nation 
From  the  dread  oppressor's  rod. 

And  the  angels  shout  the  story 

In  this  happy,  holy  morn : 
"Good  will  to  man,  to  God  be  glory 

Christ  the  Savior  now  is  born. " 

Whence  the  wrath  of  God  had  driven 
Sinning  man  with  flaming  sword. 

This  to-day  is  freely  given 

Man  again  in  Christ  the  Lord. 

Open  is  again  the  portal 

Of  lost  Eden,  and  above 
Flaming  stands  the  welcome :  Mortal, 

Enter,  enter,  God  is  Love ! 

35 


When  Shall  It  Be. 


When  shall  it  be,  my  God, my  Hope,  my  Love, 

That  I  shall  hear  Thy  call 
To  live  with  Thee  in  Thy  bright  home  above 

And  quit  this  weeping  thrall? 
My  weary  soul  is  praying 

For  that  blest  unity, 
And  evermore  is  saying: 

O,  when,  when  shall  it  be? 

When  shall  it  be,  that  I  shall  see  Thy  face 

Shining  in  Heaven's  dome, 
In  rapturous  song  extol  Thy  saving  grace 

That  brought  Thy  pilgrim  home? 
O,  while  faith's  bark  is  sailing, 

On  life's  storm-tossing  sea. 
My  heart  repeats  unfailing : 

O  when,  when  shall  it  be? 

When  shall  it  be,  that  I  shall  know  Thy  rest. 

And  from  the  battle's  din 
Be  free  to  sing  with  thy  rejoicing  Blest 

The  wondrous  bridal  hymn? 
O,  while  their  harps  are  calling 

Thrice  "Holy",  Tord,  to  Thee, 
My  longing  tears  are  falling 

And  ask:  "When  shall  it  be?" 


Come  Unto  Me,  Ye  Weary! 


Come  unto  me,  ye  weary, 

And  I  will  give  you  rest, 
Your  hearts  however  dreary 

In  me  they  shall  be  blest. 
Thus  He  is  ever  calUng 

Who  knows  each  grieving  harm. 
And  from  all  woe  enthralling 

Would  help  with  his  great  arm. 

No  tempest  roars  so  madly 

His  power  cannot  calm, 
No  wound  can  hurt  so  badly 

For  which  He  has  no  balm, 
For  eyes  in  sorrow  weeping. 

For  hearts  bowed  down  with  grief 
He  has  some  salve  in  keeping, 

Some  comfort,  some  relief. 

The  sea  around  us  flowing, 

And  earth's  bread-giving  land, 
The  stars  in  heaven  glowing, 

Are  by  His  mighty  hand. 
The  sun  obeys  His  power 

And  daily  runs  his  race. 
His  clouds  on  us  must  shower 

The  bounties  of  His  grace. 

37 


PILGRIM  SONGS, 


The  ear  is  by  His  working, 

And  He  has  made  the  eye — 
Should  He  not  see  grief's  lurking 

And  hear  its  plaintive  cry? 
Has  He  not  as  a  token 

Of  His  great  love  to  men 
In  death  His  great  heart  broken, 

Why  should  we  fear  Him  then? 

Then  listen  to  His  calling 

Ye  wanderers  to  the  grave ! 
If  you  are  daily  falling. 

His  love  will  daily  save; 
If  you  are  daily  staining 

With  crimson  guilt  your  dress, 
In  Him  free  grace  is  reigning 

And  perfect  righteousness. 

Ye  poor,  ye  sick,  ye  dying, 

Travailing  in  great  fear, 
To  you  His  voice  is  crying, 

O,  trustfully  draw  near 
To  him  who  loving  calls  you 

Unto  His  Savior's  breast. 
And  evermore  will  give  you 

Life,  comfort,  hope  and  rest. 

O  grant  us,  dearest  Jesus, 
To  hear  Thy  gospel  call. 

In  mercy  do  Thou  lead  us, 
That  in  our  grieving  all 

38 


COME  UNTO  ME,  YE  WEARY. 


We  strength  may  never  borrow 
From  man's  infirmity, 

But  in  all  care  and  sorrow 
May  ever  come  to  Thee. 


"They  are  not  Dead,  but  Sleeping." 

(John  11,  11-13.) 


They  are  not  dead,  but  sleeping, 

The  loved  for  which  we  mourn, 
Resting  in  God's  strong  keeping. 

No  longer  trouble-worn. 
Why  then  should  we  keep  weeping. 

As  though  from  us  they're  torn  ? 
They  are  not  dead,  but  sleeping. 

The  loved  for  which  we  mourn. 
Soon  shall  we  hear  their  greeting 

On  Jesus'  bridal-morn, 
And  see  in  that  fond  meeting 

What  hath  our  hearts  upborn : 
They  are  not  dead,  but  sleeping, 

The  loved  for  which  we  mourn. 


40 


Love's  Prayer. 


O,  could  I  love  Thee  more,  Thou  Love  Divine, 
And  make  Thy  cross  forever  unto  me 
(As  ivy  does  the  storm-defying  tree) 

A  sheltering  slay  for  faith's  help-seeking  vine. 

O,  could  my  heart  on  Thy  dear  heart  rechne, 
In  life's  fierce  tempest  firmly  cUng  to  Thee, 
And  never  break  our  blessed  unity, 

Nor  for  earth's  fleeting  vanities  repine! 

Alas,  each  day,  each  fleeting  hour  but  proves 
My  fickle  heart  too  easily  can  stray 
From  Thee  whom  all  the  angels  loud  adore ; 

But  yet  I  know  Thy  heart  in  pity  moves 

For  me  and  my  distress.    Then  will  I  pray : 
"Lord,  give  me  strength  to  love  Thee,  love  Thee 
more ! " 


41 


Trust  In  God. 


O,  rest  thee,  rest  thee,  anxious  heart, 
Thy  Jesus  knows  thy  woe, 

And  surely  will  to  thee  impart 
What  thou  nead'st  here  below. 

Does  he  not  hear  the  raven's  cry 

And  all  its  hunger  still. 
Should  He  then  pass  thee  only  by 

And  not  thy  wants  fulfil? 

Does  not  His  hands  the  lillies  dress 

That  grow  upon  the  field. 
Should  He  then  be  so  merciless 

And  thee  no  raiment  yield  ? 

His  love  for  every  beast  has  made 

A  home  wherein  to  live, 
Why  should  His  mercy  thee  evade, 

And  thee  no  shelter  give  ? 

Has  He  not  won  thy  soul  from  death 
And  from  the  curse  of  sin, 

That  thou  upon  thy  dying  breath 
A  heavenly  crown  might'st  win  ? 

42 


TRUST  IN  GOD. 


Is  not  His  blood  the  earnest  great 

Of  His  strong  love  for  thee, 
That  thou,  however  dark  thy  fate, 

His  child  might'st  ever  be  ? 

Oh,  then,  unto  the  Lord  thy  cares 

Commit,  my  anxious  heart : 
"  From  thee, "  in  His  great  love  He  swears, 

"I  never  will  depart." 


43 


Sylvester  Eve. 


While  the  year  is  dying  fast 
And  the  present  and  the  past 

Meet  and  part  forevermore, 
Lord,  upon  our  bended  knee 
Do  we  raise  our  voice  to  Thee 

And  Thy  saving  grace  implore. 

We  are  wanderers  to  the  tomb, 
Dust  to  dust  is  e'er  our  doom. 

Vanity  is  e'er  our  way, 
The  achievement  of  our  hand, 
All  the  works  our  hearts  have  planned— 

As  their  masters  must  decay. 

Thou  art  God  and  Thou  alone — 
In  the  Heavens  is  thy  throne, 

Founded  from  eternity. 
With  Thee  is  no  change  of  light, 
But  the  morning,  noon,  and  night 

One  eternal  day  must  be. 

As  lliou  art,  thus  is  Thy  grace 
Everlasting,  e'er  their  race 

Could  the  fleeting  years  begin. 
Still  to-day  Thy  grace  will  save 
Contrite  hearts  that  mercy  crave 

From  Thee  for  their  crimson  sin. 

44 


SYLVESTER  EVE. 


Then,  our  God,  reward  us  not 
After  our  great  sins,  but  blot 

Out  our  great  iniquity 
With  our  blessed  Redeemer's  blood. 
Save  us  by  that  precious  flood 

In  this  hour,  we  ask  of  Thee. 

Heal,  o  Lord,  all  our  disease, 
All  our  wounds  and  sorrows  ease, 

Lift  up 'every  drooping  heart. 
From  the  narrow  path  of  life 
In  this  world's  tumult  and  strife 

Let  Thy  children  ne'er  depart. 

So  when  in  that  midnight  hour 
Thy  fierce  flames  the  world  devour 

And  the  skies  to  ashes  roll, 
Then  our  lamps  be  burning  bright, 
And  we  welcome  with  delight 

Thee,  the  bridegroom  of  our  soul. 


Contentment. 


O  tell  me  not  of  earthly  things, 

Of  earthly  goods  and  gold. 
No  comfort  their  possession  brings 

When  dying  hearts  grow  cold. 
If  I  but  have  that  precious  sum 

My  Jesus  paid  for  me, 
I'll  leave  the  world  her  glittering  scum 

And  all-contented  be. 

O  tell  me  not  of  earthly  fame 

And  glory's  shining  star, 
An  empty  dream  is  Honor's  name. 

More  glorious  'tis  by  far 
To  know  yourjname  engraven  deep 

Upon  your  Savior's  heart, 
For  He  will  to  his  faithful  sheep 

Undying  fame  impart. 

O  tell  me  not  of  earthly  joy, 

Its  laughter-flowing  bowl 
Is  mixed  with  sorrow  and  annoy 

And  sinful  pleasures  foul. 
If  I  can  feast  at  Jesus'  breast 

And  e'er  rejoice  in  Him, 
My  soul  will  find  forever  blest 

Joy's  cup  filled  to  the  brim. 


eONTENTMEN'i'. 


O  tell  me  not  of  earthly  love — 

Death  swiftly  breaks  its  bands. 
If  I  can  have  that  Love  above 

And  rest  in  its  strong  hands, 
Then  I  have  more  than  all  the  world 

And  all  its  love  can  give, 
For  when  Death's  banners  arc  unfurled, 

Through  Jesus'  love  I  live. 


47 


Evening  Song. 


The  day  is  done,  the  last  bright  glow 
Of  sinking  sun  dies  in  the  West. 

The  sombre  shadows  darker  grow, 
And  fill  the  earth  with  welcome  rest. 

The  sprightly  songsters  of  the  day 
Unto  their  peaceful  bowers  hie, 

Their  friends,  the  blooming  flowers  gay, 
On  nature's  breast  a-dreaming  lie. 

The  evening  winds  in  voices  soft 

Their  vespers  breathe  among  the  pines, 

And  from  her  tranquil  azure-loft 
The  moon  in  silent  splendor  shines. 

And  I — I  bow  my  head  and  pray : 
O  dearest  Lord,  when  life  must  cease 

In  me  as  in  this  dying  day. 

Then  give  me,  give  me.  Lord,  Thy  peace. 


48 


The  Morning  Star. 


O  wond'rous  star,  herald  of  golden  morn, 
Streaming  thy  beauty  on  the  tranquil  night, 

With  holy  awe  my  heart  fills  at  thy  sight. 

And  sacred  thoughts  within  my  heart  are  bom. 

Thou  art  a  type  of  that  more  wond'rous  star 
Shining  so  bright  o'er  Juda's  sleeping  vale, 

Whose  beams  the  Magi  joyously  did  hail 

That  sought  the  Child  from  Eastern  countries  far. 

Through  its  bright  beams  they  found  it  and  did  give 
The  Child  their  gold,  their  frankincense  and  myrrh, 
And  homeward  turned  with  richer  treasures  blest. 

That  wond'rous  star  will  never  cease  to  live, 

But  ever  seeking  hearts  to  praising  stir. 
That  wond'rous  Word  of  Christ  to  all  addressed. 


49 


Weariness. 


My  soul  is  a-weary, 

Ah,  were  I  at  rest 
From  life's  way  so  dreary, 

Asleep  with  the  blest; 

Asleep  on  the  pillows 
My  Savior  prepares 

'Gainst  life's  stormy  billows, 
Its  sorrows  and  cares. 

O,  could  I  but  slumber 
Upon  His  strong  arm, 

And  there  no  more  number 
Sad  tears  of  alarm. 

My  sorrow  were  ended, 
My  weeping  were  done, 

With  joy^ever  blended 
True  peace  had  begun. 

O  Jesus,  I  pray  Thee, 
In  Thy  divine  love 

Come  quickly  and  take  me 
To  Thy  rest  above. 


50 


Easter. 


Christ  is  risen !  Christ  is  risen ! 

Angels  in  their  sheeny  stoles 
Preach  it  in  the  opened  prison 

Of  the  grave  to  fearing  souls. 

Christ  is  risen!  O,  the  joy 
Of  the  blessed  Easter  news 

Does  in  him  all  fear  destroy 

Who  its  quickening  power  proves. 

He  no  longer  to  the  grave 

Wanders  forth  in  trembling  awe, 

From  its  terror  him  to  save, 

Christ,  His  King,  its  terror  saw. 

He  lay  in  the  rocky  shrine 

And  dispelled  its  gloomy  night, 

Who  to  him  their  souls  resign, 
In  Him  rise  to  heavenly  light. 

Clad  in  immortality 

On  their  dying  couch  they  sing : 
"Hell,  where  is  thy  victory, 

Where,  o  Death,  is  now  thy  sting?  " 

51 


To  M' 


O,  thou  of  little  faith,  what  dost  thou  feaj:  ? 
Is  riot  the  Master  with  his  strong  arm  near, 
Thy  "Save  me.  Lord,"  with  speedy  help  to  hear? 

If  from  beneath  thy  feet  all  firmness  flies, 
And  mighty  winds  and  waves  around  thee  rise, 
On  Him,  that  called  thee,  fix  alone  thine  eyes ! 

Thou  raayest  sink,  but  surely  never  drown, 
Into  the  deepest  grave  He  will  reach  down 
And  lift  thee  up  to  thy  appointed  crown. 

If  thou  hadst  faith  as  small  as  mustard-seed, 
Thou  couldst  remove  the  mountains  and  the  speed 
Of  furious  tempest  check  with  frailest  weed. 

Then  thy  belief,  from  all  mistrusting  free, 
Lay  hold  on  Christ,  for  He  lays  hold  on  thee, 
And  at  His  side  thou  safely  walkst  the  sea. 


The  Mystery  Revealed. 


Whence  ometh  man,  what  is  his  pnq-^ose  here, 
His  life,  his  death?  ^'O,  must  he  ever  fail 
To  find  the  truth  and  count  his  life  a  tale 

Soon  told,  an  idle  song  or  bitter  tear, 

And  death  the  ending  of  his  dark  career? 
Dare  mortal  never  lift  the  awful  veil 
And  present's,  past's,  and  future's  secret  tale 

Tell  to  a  dying  world's  truth-longing  ear? 

No  heart's  blood  yet  this  secret's  truth  has  bought, 

No  human  wisdom  has  this  veil  unfurled. 
No  Alexander  cleaves  this  Gordian  knot, 

And  yet  the  myst'ries  meshes  are  untwirled — 

The  Son  of  God  the  answer  long  has  brought 
And  in  His  word  revealed  it  to  the  world. 


Jerusalem,  My  Blessed  Home. 


Jerusalem,  my  blessed  home, 

Fair  city  of  my  God, 
O,  how  I  long  thy  streets  to  roam 

And  sing  thy  praise  abroad. 

O,  could  I  see  thy  shining  courts, 
Thy  jeweled  gates  of  light, 

The  boundless  glory  that  transports 
Thy  blest  with  rapt  deUght. 

O,  who  can  tell  the  endless  joy 
That  lives  within  thy  walls. 

The  blessed  spirits'  sweet  employ 
That  sing  about  thy  halls? 

No  violence  in  thee  is  heard, 

But  all  thy  happy  states 
Around  their  loins  salvation  gird 

And  praise  within  thy  gates. 

In  thee  travailing  toil  is  o'er, 
Nor  doubt,  nor  restless  fear 

In  thee  the  soul  can  pain  no  more 
Nor  cause  a  single  tear. 

54 


JERUSALEM,  MY  BLESSED  HOME. 

In  thee  the  dreaded  Tempter's  sight 
Fills  no  more  with  dismay, 

And  guilty  sin's  oppressing  night 
Has  ever  fled  away. 

No  anguish,  sorrow,  weakness,  pain. 
No  sickness  they  do  know 

Who  in  thy  happy  borders  reign, 
Where  ceaseless  pleasures  glow. 

Their  Savior's  mercy  is  the  theme 
Of  their  enraptured  song, 

And  drinking  of  Life's  rolling  stream 
His  glory  they  prolong. 

Jerusalem,  my  blessed  home, 
O,  when,  when  shall  it  be, 

That  I  thy  happy  streets  may  roam 
And  sing  and  praise  in  thee. 


55 


Christ  on  the  Sea. 

FMatthew  14,  24-27.] 


I. 

The  night  lay  brooding  over  earth  and  sea, 
Hushing  to  sleep  the  noisy  voice  of  day, 
But  in  frail  bark  the  Twelve  a- watching  lay 

Tossed  by  the  angry  waves  of  Galilee. 

With  wond'ring  fear  they  question,  whether  He 
Who  fed  the  thousands  and  remained  to  pray 
On  silent  hill-top  far  from  them  away 

His  people's  long-expected  Help  could  be. 

And  with  their  bark  their  hope  now  rose,  now  fell, 

When  lo !  upon  the  sea  a  form  appears — 
An  evil  spirit — as  for  fear  they  cry. 

But  who  their  joy  that  filled  their  hearts  can  tell, 

As  from  the  gloom  the  Master's  voice  their  ears 
Greets  with  the  words :  "  Be  not  afraid,  'tis  I. " 

II. 

If  on  the  sea  of  duty,  o  my  child. 

On  which  thy  God  has  bidden  thee  to  sail. 
The  night  of  sorrow  throws  its  gloomy  veil 

And  hides  the  stars  that  have  so  oft  beguiled 


CHRIST  ON  THE  SEA. 


Thy  weary  voyage  with  their  ghmmering  mild ; 
If  waves  beat  wild  against  thy  bark  so  frail, 
Causing  thy  heart  before  their  wrath  to  quail, 

And  storm  on  storm  upon  thy  course  is  piled — 

Then  wilt  thou  often  question  in  thy  faith, 
If  He,  in  whom  alone  thy  way  is  made, 
Will  prove  Himself  the  Christ  also  with  thee. 

Mayhap  thy  eyes  some  sudden,  fearful  wraith 
Trembling  behold — but  be  thou  not  afraid, 
It  is  the  Master  walking  on  the  sea. 


87 


Ascension. 


Why  gaze  ye  up  to  heaven, 

Ye  men  of  Galilee? 
Why  are  your  hearts  so  troubled? 

What  is  it  you  would  see? 
Though  yon  black  cloud  has  taken 

Your  Jesus  from  your  view, 
His  mighty  love  and  promise 

Does  still  abide  with  you. 

As  you  have  seen  your  Jesus 

Ascending  to  the  sky. 
Thus  shall  you  see  Him  coming 

In  glory  from  on  high; 
Surrounded  by  His  angels 

He  to  his  side  will  call 
His  faithful  vineyard  servants, 

And  reign  God  all  in  all. 

Go  then,  and  preach  the  gospel, 

And  baptize  in  His  name 
The  world  for  whose  salvation 

Into  this  flesh  He  came. 
Go,  mailed  in  armor  stronger 

Than  Damask-tempered  steel. 
The  power  of  the  Spirit 

In  you  the  world  shall  feel. 


ASCENSION. 


Lo !  at  your  wond'rous  story 

The  night  shall  turn  to  day, 
The  reign  of  sin's  dread  master 

Shall  quickly  pass  away, 
And  'round  the  Cross's  standard 

The  sons  of  man  shall  meet 
To  hearken  to  its  teachings 

And  worship  at  its  feet. 

Go  then  upon  your  errand 

Of  saving  grace  and  peace. 
And  through  your  faithful  labor 

Your  Master's  house  increase, 
Until  the  happy  tidings 

Through  all  the  nations  roll, 
And  Jesus'  name  and  honor 

Resound  from  pole  to  pole. 


59 


Resurrection. 


Must  not  the  seed  under  the  sod  be  plowed, 
Must  it  not  He  from  life  and  light  away 
And  ever  seem  the  King  of  Terror's  prey, 

Enveloped  in  corruption's  sable  shroud ; 

Must  not  white-robed  ghosts  of  winter  crowd 
Eagerly  o'er  its  silent  tomb  and  say : 
"  Now  shall  its  body  ever  here  decay 

And  be  no  more  by  blooming  life  endowed 

Before  sweet  Spring,  obeying  His  command 

Who  changes  life  to  death  by  His  mysterious 
Can  whisper  to  the  seed :  Give  me  thy  hand. 

And  rise  again  from  the  entombing  sod 

Unto  a  brighter,  fairer  morn,  and  stand 
A  loud-voiced  prophet  of  a  living  God ! 

n. 

Why  fear  thee  then,  ray  heart,  to  he  some  day 
Under  the  sod  away  from  tristful  care 
And  life's  unceasing  toil?    Forever  there 

Sin's  cmel  scepter  will  have  lost  its  sway, 

60 


RESURRECTION. 


No  more  on  thee  its  tearful  burden  lay — 

And  tho'  grim  death  thy  secret  chambers  bare, 
His  power  shall  not  last,  a  morning  fair 

Will  also  dawn  on  thee  and  thy  decay. 

Then  shalt  thou  hear  the  quickening  trumpet's  sound 

Calling  thy  body  from  corruption's  bed 
Before  thy  Jesus'  throne,  there  to  be  crowned 

With  immortaUty.    Then  shalt  thou  wed 
Thy  carols  to  the  paeans  that  resound 
To  the  God  of  the  living  and  not  of  the  dead. 


6) 


Homeward  Bound. 


O  hold  me  not,  for  I  am  homeward  bound, 
I  see  the  farther  shore. 

0  hark!  I  hear  rejoicing  cymbals  sound, 
Praising  forevermore 

The  Lamb,  in  glory  holding 

Among  the  sainted  band 
His  blessed  reign,  unfolding 

The  mercies  of  His  hand. 

Farewell,  false  world,  with  thee  my  course  is  run. 

No  more  thy  tinselled  joy 
Shall  cause  my  soul  its  brighter  home  to  shun 

And  with  thy  love  to  toy. 
Thy  vanities  and  pleasures 

Have  led  me  oft  astray, 
But  now  I  go  to  treasures 

That  never  pass  away. 

Farewell,  dread  sin,  no  more  thy  fearful  wraith 

Shall  cause  me  sigh  or  tear, 
God's  lovmg  hand  has  kept  me  in  the  faith — 

What  need  my  soul  to  fear? 
My  Jesus  paid  thy  wages 

And  cleansed  me  from  thy  stain, 

1  fear  not  thy  storm's  rages. 
For  me  to  die  is  gain. 

63 


HOMEWARD  BOUND. 


Farewell,  o  Hell,  thy  onslaughts  now  are  o'er, 

Thou  hast  no  claim  on  me. 
For  over  thee  my  Christ  has  evermore 

Gained  the  great  victory; 
And  I  defy  thy  power 

To  harm  a  single  hair, 
Christ  is  my  soul's  strong  tower, 

I  laugh  at  thy  despair. 

Farewell,  ye  friends,  hold  me  not  with  your  tears. 

We  part,  but  meet  above. 
Free  from  all  cares,  all  weeping  and  all  fears, 

Where  Christ  shall  be  our  love. 
There  we  shall  see  rejoicmg 

The  loved  ones  gone  before, 
And  God's  praise  ever  voicing 

Shall  weep  and  part  no  more. 


